


what's one more hurt (I'm glad I met you)

by LesEnfantsPleurent



Series: Nemo's home Library [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood, Blood Drinking, But he comes back, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Historical References, I don't know, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kidnapping, LET'S GOOOO, Magic, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Urban Fantasy, Vampires, blood banks, dont worry, ethically sourced human blood, i guess, not from humans, not really - Freeform, technically, vaguely, you tell me - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:08:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29421378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LesEnfantsPleurent/pseuds/LesEnfantsPleurent
Summary: Out of all the memories and sensations he’s gained through his relatively short life, Tommy didn’t think he could ever forget the concept of Warmth. And yet, here he was.orVampire fledgling Tommy gets taken in by an Older vampire Wilbur. Technically fluffy, or at least I tried. Happy Valentine's day Awsten
Relationships: I swear - Relationship, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, it's purely brotherly, no shenanigans - Relationship
Series: Nemo's home Library [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164365
Comments: 39
Kudos: 150
Collections: TWB Valentine's Event [2021]





	what's one more hurt (I'm glad I met you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HunterDevilWolf666](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunterDevilWolf666/gifts).



There are some things in life one will always remember.

The first love, the first heartbreak. Mother’s eyes, father’s laugh. The sound of children laughing, the rain pounding on windows, the recomforting buzz of technology in hands. All fundamental aspects of living, no longer simply stored as memories but written in the soul, ready to be called on at any moment.

Out of all the memories and sensations he’s gained through his relatively short life, Tommy didn’t think he could ever forget the concept of Warmth. And yet, here he was.

He can’t place what’s going on. Buzzing’s filling his ears. He feels like he’s floating and immovable at the same time. Was he asleep? The only thing he knows for certain is that he’s colder than he ever was before. 

He should be panicking at the moment, he realizes dazedly. His breath is ice in his lungs, and he doesn’t even feel the need to breathe. Why? Why can’t he move? 

As the fragile tendrils of panic start to crawl in, he feels fingers slowly pass through his hair. They were- they weren’t quite warm, but compared to the frost currently in his veins, they felt like heaven.

He sighs in relief, leaning even more into the touch, eliciting a soft chuckle from around him.

“It’s alright,” the voice says, and the buzzing stops. Oh, it was singing. He misses it. “You’re safe here. You can close your eyes again and sleep.” Were his eyes open? Oh. Alright. He’ll close them again.

As he does so that the buzzing- the music starts again, and Tommy falls to the heavy curtains of sleep.

~~

The next time he wakes up, he’s less confused about his situation. Not- not that he knows where he is, no. The deep hunger simply preoccupies him more: his stomach roaring away throughout his body. He lets out a small whimper at the ache. 

A chuckle answers him. Reason comes back to Tommy in waves, although severely impaired.

He’s laying down, he’s cold, his head is in someone’s lap, and their fingers are running through his hair.

He knows he should open his eyes, but the thought of it is excruciating, so he leaves them closed.

He should probably be worried, but he can’t bring himself to do so. The only thing he feels is hunger and a craving for something he can’t place.

“Don’t worry, I assumed you’d be hungry, so I stocked up.” The voice was soft and kind and teasing, and Tommy liked it- a guy’s if he judged on the pitch. Perhaps he was just biased by the words.

Any which way, his body reacted by starting up, and Tommy felt as if on fire. The mere mention of substances activated him in a way he never felt before, and he’d have run a marathon at the moment to get it. He launched forward, a desperate attempt to get up and find food.

His attempt was stopped by a hand catching his chest and firmly keeping him in place, the other hand falling out of his hair.

“Woah there, buddy, calm down. I'll get it for you, don’t worry. Just stay there and relax a bit. No need to rush.” Tommy slumped down against the palm, squeezing his hands in the sheets. The voice chuckled and wrapped the other arm around his waist, shifting him to be leaning against his chest. It wasn’t warm in the way hugs tend to be, but the simple contact bloomed something akin to comfort in his chest.

“Alright, that’s good, kid. Just calm down and drink from this, ok?” A sponge was brought up and carefully rested against his lips. The second it made contact, Tommy felt all rational thoughts leave his head, reverting to his most animalistic urges.

He sinks his teeth in the sponge and nearly moans as the liquid flows down his throat. Whatever it was was warm and thick and pleasingly coated his throat. His hands come forward on their own, nails sinking into the arm of whoever was feeding him. It was the best feeling in the world.

Too soon, the sponge was empty and yet Tommy craved more. He tried to sink his teeth again, hoping to maybe find some more, but was interrupted by his mysterious helper tutting softly and removing the sponge. Tommy groaned in protest, trying his best to hold onto the arm, but the man merely laughed, running his other hand through his hair again.

Soon enough, another sponge is on his lips and Tommy drinks eagerly.

He can’t say how long it’s been, how many sponges he drank from. All he knows is that the liquid felt good sliding down his throat and the stranger’s hold was comforting.

Eventually, his hunger subsides, and he lets go of a half-drunk sponge, resting his head in the crook of the man’s neck, feeling satiated.

The man shifts around to better cradle him, an arm wrapping around his waist, and another softly brushes in his hair.

“First time’s always hard, especially in your case. You can go back to sleep.”

And Tommy passes out in the stranger’s arms, feeling more at home than he had for a while.

~~

The third time Tommy wakes up, he’s mostly coherent, although vaguely drowsy. He’s resting against someone’s chest within their embrace. They’re softly singing something, a soft melody Tommy can’t quite recognize. He opens his eyes.

Whatever he thought he was going to see, it wasn’t this. His face was deeply nestled in the crook of a dramatically pale neck. He pulls back.

Only to realize he doesn’t recognize the person he was leaning against.

Obviously, he does the only thing a rational person would do-

Tommy  _ freaks out. _

He scrambles out of the soft hold and falls to the floor, flying backwards, flailing limbs making a raucous. The stranger opens his eyes to look at him, and  _ oh fuck, they’re red! _ He scrambles out of bed only to try and approach him, but Tommy grabs the first thing he finds - a balled-up sock- and prepares to throw it at him.

The stranger places his hands in front of him in a pleasant manner, but  _ holy shit, those are claws. Oh no, Tommy’s gonna die _ . The other’s lips are moving at a fast pace, but Tommy can’t hear anything through the buzzing in his ears, which,  _ Oh, he’s screaming. _

The stranger seemed to reconsider his strategy and shuts his mouth. Tommy stops screaming, his eyes locked onto the other.

Slowly, the stranger lowers himself to the ground, sitting with his legs crossed, barely a meter away from him.

“Hello,” his voice is soft and caring and alluring. “My name’s Wilbur, and you’re dead.”

~~

All in all, after the awful start, things made more sense.

After his immediate reaction, Wilbur managed to sit him down and explain to him what 

happened. 

Long story short, Tommy was dead. Beyond dead. More precisely, he was a vampire. He’s not very sure what he thinks about that, or if he really believes it, but he’ll roll with it.

Wilbur was also a vampire and found him delirious in an alleyway covered in blood. He claims that Tommy wasn’t responding to anything and couldn’t even tell him his name, so he took him home. Which essentially counts as kidnapping, Tommy pointed out, which only made the older man squawk.

Newly turned vampires are essentially animals until they do their first feeding, Wilbur had claimed, rubbing his hands on his knees in what could have been nervousness. He didn’t want to let a rabid, bloodthirsty creature alone in the streets, especially a child like this one.

Which led to their current situation.

Tommy was sitting at the darken wood table, staring at the glass in front of him.

“It’s not as bad as you think.” Wilbur was leaning against the door sipping from his wine glass as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Which it probably was for him.

Tommy glared at the pale man, still distracted by his red eyes.

“It’s human blood. That’s disgusting.”

A role of crimson orbs.

“It’s from the blood bank. It’s planned in, don’t worry, it’s not stolen.” He gazed into his own glass and swished it around before looking back up and smirking.

“If it’s the taste, I can let you know that fresh blood is better. We could try that.” A truly foul glare answered him, and he raised his hand in mock defence.

“I don’t think I actually can. I feel like I’m going to throw up.” The liquid was red in a way that felt wrong, coating up the sides of the glass and vaguely warm as Wilbur had reheated it in the microwave.

The older vampire sighs and walks to the kitchen, and Tommy somehow misses his presence already. There’s shuffling in the kitchen, and things shuffled around before he walks back in, sponges in his hands.

“I got these for your first feeding a few days ago. Mimics flesh pretty well.” At the visible shiver Tommy had, Wilbur rolled his eyes and stared at him point-blank.

“This transition will go much better if you get over your fear of body parts.” He comes closer and gently dips his sponge in the glass, turning it to a deep red colour. He hands it to Tommy, who just stares, making no movement to take it in his own hands. More eye rolls.

“Just put it on your lips. You already had some. It’ll taste fine now.” Nothing. Wilbur slowly comes closer and places the sponge against his lips. Tommy doesn’t know how to feel about that, but a single drop falls in his mouth, and it’s like a switch was flipped.

All doubt evades his mind, the liquid more like ambrosia at that moment than anything else.

He only realizes what happened when he stares at the now dry sponge he had grabbed. He looks up at Wilbur, feeling vaguely dazed.

The brunet smiles and affectionately runs a hand through blond locks. 

“Don’t worry too hard; the more you drink, the less animalistic it will be.” He pushes the glass forward again, and Tommy unconsciously licks his lips at the sight.

“Better get started now.”

~~

“What do you remember?”

“What do you mean?”

“Dying’s traumatic. Most people have difficulty remembering who they were before.”

“I remember a bit.”

“Tell me, it might help jog your memory.”

“My name’s Tommy, I’m 16, and I live in England.”

“... that’s it?”

“I don’t think so... It just feels fuzzy. Like, almost there but not quite.”

“Don’t worry, that’s normal, happened to all of us. You’ll remember more as time goes by.”

“If you say so…”

~~

“So, what do you even do?”

They were sitting in one of Wilbur’s many plush velvet couches, which he acquired over the years. Tommy was cradled in the older man’s arms, head comfortably on his lap, a random book in his hands. Wilbur was also reading an absolute brick of a novel, his other hand brushing through soft locks, the way he always did.

At the question, he looked up from the dusty pages to cross with the younger’s eyes. He hummed thoughtfully, twisting a lock between frozen fingers.

“You’re gonna have to be slightly more specific than that.

“Well, I’m a vampire now, right?” A nod.“What do vampires do? You’re obviously not gorgeous, so that part must have been a myth.” That jab earned him a sharp tug at his hair, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Wilbur smirked at his wince.

“I’ll have you know that I was the epitome of beauty in the Victorian age. Made quite a few public outrages. Almost got hanged a few times too.” Tommy got up at the statement, shifting from his place to prop himself up with his forearms. 

“Like that! You were alive in the Victorian age! Does that make you immortal?”

“It makes  _ us _ immortal, yes. At least, until we’re killed.” Tommy squinted at him, pulling back and resting a hand on his chest almost carefully.

“Like, staking and iron and sunlight?” Wilbur sighs and closed his book with a snap before placing it on the matching bedside table. His red eyes lock with his charge’s, and he raises an eyebrow.

“So we’re doing this now?” Tommy tilted his head in a question. Wilbur sighed before nudging him off his lap and getting up. He shoots a look over his shoulder before motioning for the younger to follow him.

Tommy scrambles to follow the much more graceful vampire.

Wilbur’s, and Tommy’s now also, home was an old Edwardian house and looked the part. It was filled to the brim with antiquities worth more money than Tommy had ever seen. It was also decorated in muted tones, wallpaper kept perfectly immaculate only through diligent care. It felt old and spooky and not out of place in a history book.   
  
(“Look,” Wilbur had groaned out after Tommy had mocked his homestyle. “I decorated this house when I first got it with the fashion styles of the time. No one even comes here anyway. It serves its purposes.”

“What, is redecorating every decade too much work for you? Is it too hard on your old joints? Are you too crippled in your old age? Is that it?” A light smack answered him.   
  


“Watch your mouth, little boy, I’ll make you hand scrub the chimney.”)

The duo ended up in the gigantic library Wil had managed to hoard throughout the years. It was a sight straight from a movie. The dark bookshelves were massive, spanning from ceiling to floor, overstuffed with heavy tomes, most of them gathering dust from disuse. There were stacks upon stacks of books on the floor, making the passage through hard, but not impossible.

Wilbur glided through as if at home in the snapshot of times past, and Tommy can suddenly see him in a stuffy overcoat overviewing a coal-powered factory, or in a top hat, discussing the state’s religions.

He doesn’t let his mind wander too much, preferring to hurry after the older man.

Eventually, after a few twists and turns, Wilbur arrives at a bookshelf. He pulls out a book, and Tommy immediately sinks back into his neck in shame.

“Alright, let’s make this clear.” He waves the dark cover around “Twilight? It’s not facts. It was written by a lady who had gotten seduced by a vampire. He told her whatever she wanted to hear before breaking her heart and running away with her brother after the books were written.” 

“So no soulmates and huge Italian governments or werewolves?” Wilbur snorts and places the book back on the shelf.

“No to soulmates, there are not enough vampires left to  _ form _ a government, and if we did, it  _ wouldn’t be in Italy, where the church is based. _ Holy water  _ is _ something that hurts like a bitch.” He turned back to the bookshelf sweeping his gaze across before darting off to another place. Tommy scrambles to keep up.

“But werewolves? Are they real?” Wilbur hummed non-committedly, ducking underneath a wooden beam.

“As real as wizards and curses, yeah.” Tommy sputters, only coming to a pause when he slams into the older’s suddenly immobile chest. Wilbur grabs hold of his sweater before he falls over, letting him straighten himself before letting go.

“What? What the hell do you mean with that?” Wilbur pulls out a red bound book and turns it to Tommy, the golden embroidered title standing out.

_ An extensive Introduction to the newly initiated to cultural unnaturals. _

Tommy carefully takes the book in his hands.

“Is the answer a yes, then?” Wilbur shoots him a borderline feral grin before softly tapping on his head.

“Don’t worry, we’re just going over vampires today. We’ll do the rest of the unnaturals later.” He then stretches over and picks up a thicker book, and shows it off.

“This here is the  _ Integral guide for newly turned vampires. _ Now, if I was meaner, I’d make you read the whole thing yourself. But since I’m such a nice guy, I’ll help you with it.”

“But you’ll make me read the other one alone?”

“A little reading never staked nobody. Anyways, it’s not like you’re going to run out of time. Come on, let’s go back to the drawing-room.”

A scoff from the younger one echoed that statement.

“Drawing room, really? How fucking old are you? Can’t you talk like a normal person?”

Wilbur turns to move outside the library, winking while passing Tommy on the way.

“Nay! if 't be true i needeth to, I'll speaketh in the right way, the way we w're did suppose to speaketh from the starteth, the  _ true _ English, backeth when-”

“What the fuck.”

They burst into laughter.

~~

“So we’re functionally immortal unless murdered.”

“Yes.”

“Which can be from a stake through the heart, magical spells, iron and magically charged weapons? Like holy water?”

“Don’t forget sunlight.”

“No wonder there’s no windows here. How does that even work?”

“What do you mean? We turn to dust under sunlight.”

“No, I mean- how do you even do things? Like, how do you go outside during the day?!”

“For a long time, protections. Posed as a lady for a bit to wear those huge hats and sun-umbrellas for a bit. More recently, I got a magical disguise.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, makes me appear mostly human and acts like a protective layer from the sun. See this ring here?”

“Wow! You look normal, holy shit! Where did you get that?”

“I know a wizard who specializes in the impossible. Had it custom made.”

“...oh.”

“Don’t worry, I commissioned you one. What kinda mentor would I be if I let you burn in the sun the first time you go outside? What the- what are you-..?”

“Shut up and let me hug you. And here you say you’re heartless.”

“Technically-”

“You’re like my brother, you know. We’re like brothers.”

“Don’t say that; you’ll make me cry”

~~ 

“Are you sure I’m ready?” Tommy wasn’t nervous per se; he was just careful. He’d been a vampire for a month now, living off of blood bank donations. Wilbur had claimed it had been long enough for most instincts to be calmed down, but still. 

“Eh, as ready as you’ll ever be. You’ll never be truly ready for it. It’s something you learn from exposure.” Wilbur was double-checking his hair in the mirror, which he could now see his reflection in, thanks to the ring.

Tommy himself had his own ring on his index finger, a ruby-encrusted band resting almost innocently. He could see himself in the mirror for the first time in however long he could remember.

He could remember how he looked before only by seeing how he looked now. He was paler than he had been before; there were faint scars on his arms and torso that were not there the last time he checked, as well as two little holes on the side of his neck. His hair was far fluffier than it used to be, which perfectly matched his eyes, now disguised as a shade of blue they were not before. Objectively, it was a true masterpiece and a truly beautiful human being. Subjectively it felt like an uncanny version of himself.

Before he could further lose himself in his thoughts, Wilbur’s now human coloured hand came to grab his chin, angling it just so, so their eyes met.

They were a deep dark brown that perfectly accompanied his dark curly locks. Tommy preferred his red ones.

“Are you ok? Do you want us to get you another one, one that looks more to how you might have looked like before?” Tommy shocked his head, smiling softly.

“No, it’s good. I like it this way. Just… it just reminds me of who I used to be, I guess.” Wilbur hummed thoughtfully, letting go of his chin to grab a few things out of the entry wardrobe. He comes back with a dark woollen coat and with matching boots. He hands them over to Tommy, who quickly puts on the clothes.

“We’re planning on getting you your own clothes today.” Wilbur smiles lightly, watching Tommy struggle to put the coat over his thick sweater. “That way, you don’t have to wear mine all the time.”

Tommy looks back up to him, unconsciously pouting.

“I like your clothes.” Wilbur laughed, wrapping a scarf around the younger’s neck and placing a hat on top. 

“That’s just the family bond acting. Remember what we said?” Tommy half-heartedly nods, turning back to start at himself in the mirror.

“Vampires that help each other develop family-like bonds to prevent fights. I know.” 

  
“Doesn’t mean we’re not close.” Wilbur opens the door to the snow-covered landscape, gesturing for Tommy to go out first. He does so, grumbling.

“Just means that I’m more attached than I should be and that it should pass soon enough. I know.”

Tommy steps out of the home for the first time in a month. He should be contemplating freedom and change and how his skin tingles under the sun, but he can’t help to focus on Wilbur, who was turned towards the door and locking it.

“If after the bond’s calmer, you still want to keep a few of my things, we can- HEY!” A snowball had hit the older’s head perfectly dead center and, combined with vampire super strength, made Wilbur smash his head against the oak door. 

He turned around and glares at the younger boy, trying to hold back a grin at the absolute huge smirk on the other’s face. 

“Oh, you’re getting it now,” and with vampire super speed, he started pelting the other with snowballs, causing him to squeal and try and run away.

They chased each other at a human speed all the way downtown, making a few humans laugh around them. Tired out and more mindful of the increasing population, they started looking in the shops, Tommy cradled in Wilbur’s side.

_ Yeah, _ thought Tommy as Wilbur starting rattling little facts of how this part of the town changed over the years, _ everything’s going to be fine. _

~~

“So you’ve been undead for a long time then?”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t it get boring after a while?”

“A bit. Humans always create new things to discover, and if I get too bored, I go travelling a bit.”

“...aren’t you lonely? Being forever frozen in that body.”

“There are a few long-lived unnaturals I meet from time to time, but yeah. I guess it gets lonely sometimes.”

“I’m scared I’ll end up alone.”

“You won’t.”

“Why not?”

“You got me. And I’m not leaving you alone, not until you want me to. We’re bonded now, it's a two way street.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you.”

  
  


~~

**BONUS!**

Sunglasses covered eyes peek over the newspaper he had snatched from a stand, making sure he saw the right thing. He softly raised his phone to snap a pic of the joking duo before hurrying back behind a lamppost.

Looking back, it seemed he was in the clear, as the smaller blond was still jumping around and moving his hands all over, to which the taller brunet only smirked and quipped back. They didn’t see him. Good.

Hurriedly, but still slowly enough to not raise suspicion, he made his way to a back alley, careful to keep the two within his sight and opened up his phone. Quickly he sends the picture with a small haunting text that hangs in front of his vision for a bit.

Memory Boi to Bee Lad:

_ Tubbo, I think I just saw Tommy. He’s alive. _

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, what did you guys think? Fluffy? Angsty?
> 
> me too! This was fun. 
> 
> If you guys liked it, I might continue. Something like a Tommy&Ranboo&Tubbo meet up. Maybe.
> 
> Love you, be good <3
> 
> Nemo~


End file.
